Status Quo
by margroks
Summary: Missing scene from Magnetic: something comes up in the file room.


Status Quo

The rights to the characters of Smallville belong to its producers, the WB Network and DC Comics.  I own them not.

Clark watched in stunned silence as Chloe smiled back at him, bouncing off the door frame before she disappeared into the hallway.  He stood, leaning back against the filing cabinets in the Records Room of Smallville Medical Center where Chloe had hastily shoved him, shocked and bewildered by what had just happened.  A doctor had surprised them in the file room and Chloe had pushed him against the cabinets, kissing him and making it look like  they were just a couple who'd found a secluded place to make out.  Problem was, that kiss had been so thorough, instead of letting go, Clark had pulled her close, returning it with a passion.  God…he'd started to slip his tongue into her mouth before she'd pulled away!

Clark had looked at her with heavily lidded eyes, barely registering what she was saying to the doctor who'd caught them because he was so aware of the proximity of her body.  When she breezed out of the room, saying, "A good reporter always thinks on her feet," he'd been unable to process what had happened, at first.  Flustered, flummoxed; pole axed was more like it.  And even though the kiss had been cut short by circumstances, Clark was, well, deeply…affected.  He stared after her, shifting nervously, making…adjustments, pulling his jacket closed to try and hide the evidence, terribly embarrassed that she might have realized the effect she'd had on him.  Because they were just friends and that was it. 

After a few moments, he'd decided to make a break for it but quickly realized there were too many people in the crowded hallway to superspeed away.  Clark was forced to inch his way along, hiding behind a few conveniently placed carts and the occasional decorative fern when necessary and otherwise hunching over and leaning against the wall when he had to.  Maybe people would think he had appendicitis or something and leave him alone. 

No wait; it was a hospital and they'd try to help him so he'd better try to look only mildly ill.  At one especially busy corridor, he had to stop for some cross traffic.  A gurney holding a very pregnant woman was making its way past and she was screaming dire imprecations at every man nearby.  "Bastards!  You're all bastards!"  Her baleful eyes zeroed in on Clark just as another hard contraction overcame her and she yelled, "Oh, yeah, you're there for the fun but where are you now?  Huh?  Where are you when it's time for the hard part?"  The woman grabbed at the side railing, squeezing and yanking so hard that one loose rail came off in her hand.  She screamed again and slammed the bar into Clark's groin several times before the orderly got it away from her. 

"Now…Mrs. Rosenbaum…you're gonna hurt someone-"  She swung again, narrowly missing the orderly and connecting with a passing food cart, spilling green Jello and oatmeal everywhere.   

Clark scuttled backward, away from a very solicitous nurse who was reaching out to examine him.  "No, I'm fine!  She missed me!"  He turned, quickly fleeing down a different corridor; behind him, he heard the orderly exclaim, "Look at the dent in this thing!  What'd you hit, Mrs. R?" 

The side corridor was, fortunately, much less crowded and Clark was able to make it as far as the outer doors, where he slowed to wait until he was calm again.  He removed his jacket and held it casually in one hand, strategically placed in front of him.  He stood facing the wall near the outer doors and his thoughts easily returned to Chloe.  Chloe…pressed up against him, her lips against his, his tongue sliding over hers-  Okay…that wasn't helping at all except to make him even more…he grabbed onto his jacket with his other hand, seeking additional camouflage.

"Clark!"

He actually jumped.  Making sure his jacket was very firmly obscuring his affliction, he slowly turned, trying to appear nonchalant.  "Where've you been?  I've been waiting for you-"

"I've been waiting for you in the car.  I came in once but I couldn't find you.  What took you so long?"

"I…uh…there was this pregnant lady and she…was screaming and she…she tried to hit me…"

"Why?"

"I think she was just mad at men in general.  And…I got the impression she was mad 'cause her husband wasn't here."

"I can understand that-wait; it wasn't Mrs. Rosenbaum, was it?"

"Yeah, actually it was-"

"Ooh…her husband works at the plant; he's one of their main engineers and Lex has been working him like a dog for the last two weeks and their baby's due any time.  Dad said he's got a whole bunch of kids and his wife was about to have another one.  Guess she wasn't too happy 'bout having number twelve with her hubby MIA."

"Twelve!"  The very thought boggled his mind.  "Wow!"  Clark smiled at the thought of a noisy household full of kids, brothers and sisters to chase and play with…others with whom he might share his burden, siblings who would watch out for him…      

"Well, how'd you feel if you had enough kids for a baseball team and were way pregnant again and no one was with you when the baby decided to pop out?"  She frowned and added, "I'd be pissed, too."

Clark, who'd found himself suddenly fascinated by her mouth and had been getting closer as she spoke, edged away slightly, hunching over, making sure his jacket was still firmly covering his groin.  Chloe eyed him with concern as he scuttled across the parking lot to the car.

The trip back was uneventful except for Clark hanging out the open window the entire time, reminding Chloe of a Labrador retriever that had once belonged to her neighbors.  The way he seemed to be panting and groaning, well, actually keening, she guessed would be more the term for it, completed the picture.

"Clark, what're you doing?  You're not gonna yark, are you?"

He looked over at her, eyes wide and mouth hanging open for a moment before he said, "No, I'm just…hot!"  Then he plopped his head down on the door and groaned.  He looked like he was trying to crawl out the window.  Chloe drove faster.

When they pulled into the school parking lot, Clark jumped out of the car before she had even come to a complete stop and raced into the building ahead of her.  When she entered the Torch office, Clark was already there, hiding his persistent condition by sitting under a desk, his jacket still in his lap.  Chloe alternately paced and hovered over him, occasionally leaning in close to see for herself what he'd pulled up on the screen.  Right now she was staring intently at some piece of information he'd found and so close to the screen that he was getting a really great view of her very tight shirt.  It was the same kind of shirt she'd been wearing in that dream he'd had the week before when he couldn't stay awake.  Brilliantly colored and form fitting…in fact, lately he'd had that dream on more than one occasion. 

Except now the dream was different.  When it started out, Clark would be in Crater Lake, improbable in any event since Crater Lake probably contained the highest concentration of meteor fragments in the whole county and he would never willingly jump in but there he'd be and he was always skinny dipping.  Sometimes, Chloe was in the lake with him, teasing him and asking if anything had come up.  Sometimes he was by himself and people were standing on the dock waving and yelling and Chloe would be leaning over the edge of the dock taking pictures.  Three days ago, he'd dreamed he was swimming in the lake and when he looked back towards shore, the dock had been replaced by the stands at Smallville High stadium from which the entire student population was watching.  Chloe stood up in the front row, her camera at the ready.  Suddenly, Clark had begun levitating up out of the water in full view of everyone and Chloe started snapping pictures as a chorus of hoots and catcalls erupted behind her.  Lana sat beside her with a confused look on her face as she stared at him.  Clark had frantically covered himself as his fellow students began to clap and Chloe yelled out, "Good thing your hands are big, too!"

Clark's cheeks reddened as the dream came back to him and he groaned out loud, hitting himself in the forehead with the heel of one hand.

"Clark!  What are you doing?" she laughed.

"Headache," he replied.

"Want some aspirin?  There's a bottle in the drawer."  Chloe reached down, grasping the handle of her middle desk drawer, perilously close to Clark's lap.

"No!  I'll be fine-"

"Geez!  It wouldn't hurt for you to take a couple of aspirin; there's Tylenol, too, if you'd rather have that-" she pulled the drawer out with some difficulty as it seemed to have caught on something, elbowing Clark in the stomach.  He got a really strange look on his face, his brows furrowed and his mouth forming a little moue then he sunk down, half sliding out of his chair in an effort to scoot even further under the table.

"Now what are you doing?"

"Nothing!  I'm…uh…I slipped.  Just…can you get me a glass of water?"  He waited, repositioning himself in the chair and making further necessary adjustments when she turned to go to the water cooler.

Chloe returned, handing him the glass, adding, "Want me to hang your jacket up?"  She reached for it but Clark clutched it tightly with his free hand.

"No!  Just…thanks for the water."  He gulped the rest and handed the glass to her.         

She eyed him, tilting her head.  "Are you really okay, Clark?  I…didn't hurt you when I pushed you into the file cabinets, did I?"

"No…I'm fine.  No…no problem, Chloe."

"You seem awfully tense."  She stared at him for a moment before asking, "Why are you all hunched over?"

"Um…stiff neck…I have a stiff neck."  Clark rolled his head in an exaggerated fashion, rubbing the left side for good measure.  "Must've slept funny."

"Does it hurt worse in one spot?  On the left side?"

"Yeah…"

"Feel for a knot…that's the trigger point; if you can put pressure on it, it'll help.  Here…" setting the glass aside, she reached out and began rubbing his back and that didn't help matters at all. 

"Chloe…" Clark started to squirm.

"My cousin showed my how to do this; she's studying to become a physical therapist.  Just try to relax." Moving behind him, she leaned against his back, vigorously massaging his shoulders.  By the time she worked her way down to the area above his shoulder blades, he was starting to relax.  It did feel good...it felt wonderful…he leaned backward into her touch and moaned out loud when she pressed against him… "Geez, Clark, you're hard as a rock!"

"Gahk!"  Clark lurched forward, bumping the table and upsetting the monitor although he made a quick save before it could fall.  Chloe lost her balance and grabbed his shirt for purchase, yanking him abruptly backward.  The table rocked up on two legs and he had to catch the computer screen again as it threatened to slide off the table in the opposite direction.

 This was becoming totally embarrassing…finally, after they'd really only skimmed the topic of possible electromagnetic effects on the human body, Clark  pleaded that he had to go and stumbled out the door as quickly as he could.  Behind him, he heard her ask if he needed a ride, as she leaned out the door only to find an empty corridor just as he broke into Clark time and was no longer visible.  In the few moments it took him to get home, his thoughts were still of Chloe.

Slowing to normal speed, he x-rayed the area just before entering the barn.  Clark spotted Lana waiting inside for him, a scowl darkening her face; he hung back, watching her for a moment and suddenly realized his need for camouflage had disappeared.  A few moments later, he watched Lana storm off, perplexed that she was once again ignoring his warning.  Now he was more convinced than ever that Seth held her in some Kryptonite induced spell and he was determined to help her, whether she wanted him to or not.  It would probably get him into trouble. 

Chloe busied herself at her computer, wondering what was up with Clark.  He'd been acting weird ever since the incident in the Records Room at the Med Center.  She smiled to herself, thinking she'd finally gotten that kiss even if she'd had to take the initiative.  It had been a snap decision to explain their presence in an off limits area and what started off as a ploy had quickly become more involved than she'd ever intended.  Nope; didn't want to go down that road again but she'd given it her all and damn if Clark hadn't gotten into the spirit and pulled her close.  And…there'd been a moment, just before she'd pulled away to confront the doctor…when she'd felt his tongue invading her mouth…  I mean, they'd _had_ to sell the doctor on the fact that they were really making out, right?  She had to admit, at the time, she'd been amused by Clark's apparent reaction; when the doctor had started lecturing them he'd let her do all the talking, just standing there against the file cabinets, staring at her with heavily lidded eyes and practically hanging on her shoulder.  He'd actually seemed quite flustered afterward.  _Well, there!  Now you know what you're missing!_ 

Leaving quickly to avoid her embarrassment, she'd headed straight to her car and sat for several minutes.  She went back in once to look for him but he was nowhere to be found so she'd returned to the car for a bit hoping he'd show.  When he had still not appeared after about five minutes, she'd had to go back in again to look for him and found him standing inside the outer doors all hunched over like he was sick or something.  She'd practically had to drag him outside and over to the car.  He'd claimed he'd been waiting for her, not realizing she was already at her car.

            _Oh, God; maybe I really did hurt him when I shoved him into the cabinet...and he didn't say anything…_  On their return to the Torch office, Clark had planted himself in front of the computer, scooting so close it looked like he was trying to climb into the screen.  Chloe had tried to be solicitous, patting his shoulder and rubbing his back.  She'd even given him that massage when he complained of a stiff neck… but he kept insisting he was just fine…right up until he fled the room.  Tapping her finger on her chin for a moment in contemplation, she decided perhaps she should drop by the loft where he would no doubt be hanging out at this time of night, trying to re-cooperate after his showdown with Seth.  Lana had been there earlier, having another heart to heart talk with him about their non relationship; she'd been talking on and on about it after she came back, stopping suddenly as though it had only just occurred to her that maybe Chloe didn't want to hear it.  Ever since Clark's return from his wiggy summer in Metropolis and his decision to sever their romantic connection, Lana had been yammering on incessantly about how he's hurt her and lobbing boulder sized hints in his direction that she wanted everything back to the way it was.  She'd taken to dropping by the farm at opportune moments just in case Clark had suddenly changed his mind. 

After a point, Chloe was beginning to suspect Clark might not want to hear it either but she figured it was up to him to fend Lana off if he was so inclined.  Once, when Lana said she felt guilty about not visiting her parents because she had been spending so much time with Clark (although she hadn't really, Clark having made himself somewhat scarce after their parting of the ways) and she hoped they'd understand, Chloe had decided Lana needed some serious couch time with a good shrink because, memories aside, Lana was spending way too much time hanging out in graveyards.  Her polite (she thought) suggestion that Lana might want to talk to someone about her obsession with the dead parents had been met with a chilly response.

Now that Lana had returned from her latest visit to the farm and gone on to make another pilgrimage to the graveyard, Chloe could safely stop by to check on Clark and see if he was really okay.  She'd feel really bad if she'd actually injured him.    

Clark sat silently in the darkened barn, watching the full moon in the autumn sky.  He'd been there for hours, letting the events of the day play out again and again in his mind; Lana's sudden attraction to Seth and her subsequent fall from grace and atonement.  Although instead of picking up trash as he had, she'd ended up mopping the halls of Smallville Medical Center, as penance for her misdeeds.  And Clark had saved her, as usual, even though this time, she'd threatened to shoot him.  How was it that Clark so often seemed to draw the ire of those he tried to help, to the point they often tried to kill him?  It never seemed to work when Clark just suggested someone needed help; usually, that's when they got pissed and tried to do him serious bodily harm.  Sometimes, there just wasn't much glory to the hero business.

Life had been much simpler before he knew who and what he really was.  His amazing strength and speed had been with him since childhood, growing every year and he'd helped many of the residents of Lowell County with his abilities even as a much younger boy.  When he'd finally understood why he was so very different, it became so much more complicated. 

Everything had been easier since he'd decided to put Lana in the friends' category and get on with figuring out the weirdness that was his life without a significant other occupying part of the equation.  He just didn't need that right now and he knew, deep down, that he would never be the guy for her.  Likewise, he'd been trying to mend fences with Chloe and now that he was back on staff at the Torch and really investigating and writing as more of an equal, his friendship with her finally seemed to be back on track.  Just being friends with girls was a whole lot easier than dating them and he'd pretty much resigned himself to that with Chloe, as well; trying to forget the Spring Formal Fiasco, the disastrous Date That Almost Wrecked Their Friendship.

Sometimes, a niggling little voice inside his head would say it wasn't the date, it was the aftermath that nearly ruined everything but he ignored that, much as he'd ignored Chloe, all too often, in the year that followed, while he pursued Lana like a moonstruck idiot.  What did the voice know, anyway?  Chloe said she just wanted to be friends and he'd honored her request even though it hurt.  Lana had seemed interested and Chloe wasn't.  All Chloe wanted was for Clark to treat her with a little more consideration and forthrightness.  Simple or so it had seemed, at the time.

It was only much later, that Clark had gotten the faintest inkling Chloe might still have feelings for him beyond that and by then he was so wrapped up in his Lana fixation he'd brushed the possibility aside.  Time and again, Chloe had claimed it was friendship she wanted, bridling at any suggestion it might be otherwise.  He had to admit, there were times when she'd had legitimate cause to be angry with him because he'd been less than reliable when it came to making deadlines or even showing up when he'd promised.  Their last quarrel before he'd run away had been a doozy and he'd thought she might finally make good on her threat never to speak to him again.  And yet, she'd found him and kept his whereabouts a secret during his wild summer in Metropolis when Clark had put her in an impossible situation, after all; steadfast when he hadn't really deserved it. 

Somehow, Clark had known she'd be the one to find him and deep down, he'd known he could trust her.  Still…he wondered if it was possible she harbored hidden feeling for him but after the events of summer, especially the fact that throwing her against the wall in his haste to get rid of her during her last visit to his apartment might be considered assault, it wasn't likely.  That she'd asked him to rejoin the Torch staff, as well, was another testament to her worthiness as a friend.  _Thank Rao she didn't harbor the same vindictive streak his own dark side apparently did.  Geez; there I go, thinking in Kryptonese again._  Another thing he now had to watch; if Clark wasn't careful, he'd start _speaking_ in Kryptonese.  That wouldn't make his friends suspicious, would it?       

It was just that the incident in the file room at the Medical Center that had so unnerved him.  Clark had pushed it to the back of his mind when he'd gone to rescue Lana.  He'd listened to Lana when she came to talk, as she so often did these days and tried to sort out his feelings about her dating other people; it was all just so weird.  All those years he'd dreamed of dating her and now…but he felt…tethered to her, somehow.  When Chloe had suggested genetic memory, he'd been genuinely disturbed by the idea that his attraction to Lana might have been a result of that.  Lana was nice, if a bit obsessed with her past even though she had tried to overcome it; she was compassionate and certainly lovely but…just…_eeewww_…he didn't really want to think about _that_ anymore.  Tonight, Clark had actually been relieved when Lana left.    

And then there was Chloe...it seemed he still couldn't get that memory out of his head…  Restless, Clark stood and paced around the loft a couple of times, finally flopping back down on the old couch.  He shifted and a spring poked through the back of it with a cartoon-like "boing," and snagged his t-shirt.  Turning to untangle it, he succeeded in tearing a huge swath under his arm and across the front.  Sighing, he pulled on the rusty spring and snapped it off, casting it aside. He propped his big feet up on the old steamer trunk that held his grandfather's keepsakes and leaned back.  After a while, he lit a candle a few feet away with a quick shot of heat vision and slumped deeper into the couch, indulging in some serious moping while he stared up at the stars. 

Clark sat, deep in thought, for quite some time.  He shifted, turning his head to the right and lit a tall pillar candle resting on a barrel in the corner.  Something else came loose inside the aging couch, poking him in the back.  A grimace crept across his face then his eyes narrowed as he began concentrating intently on the offending spring, thinking perhaps he could disintegrate it through sheer force of will.  Nothing, however, happened.  Apparently, psychic obliteration wasn't one of his powers (yet, anyway) so Clark began to experiment with his heat vision instead, trying to light two candles at once at slightly different angles, one with each eye but it gave him a headache so he went back to moping.  Finally, he swung his feet up and stretched out, deciding a nap would be the best thing.  He plumped up the worn feather pillow and grabbed an old blanket from the back of the couch, twisting around until he found the right position; while not really necessary, it was comforting to snuggle up under it, nonetheless.  As he began to drift off, he heard a "ping!" and felt another spring pop loose beneath him.

Chloe was feeling a bit nervous as she approached the Kent farm; still embarrassed, actually, about the kiss in the file room.  Okay, so maybe she could have come up with something else but it had worked and kept them out of trouble and…hell, it'd been worth it to actually kiss Clark Kent when she was awake and aware of what was happening.  But that was it; it had been a ploy to get them out of a tight spot and nothing more.  That was all; an impulsive move, inspired by necessity.  _You know what they say…necessity is a mother…_  Sometimes a little voice inside her head tried to tell her things, enlightening or inveigling, depending.  At the moment, it was encouraging her to be even more impulsive than she had been earlier but she resisted.  Clark was finally acting like a friend again and she didn't want to screw that up anymore than she already had.  She just wanted things to be like they used to be.  _Once you cross that line, you can never go back._  _Shut up!_  Sometimes, that little voice was so annoying.

She slowed after making the turn onto Hickory Lane, slowing even more as she approached Clark's driveway.  Before she actually made the turn, she pulled over to the side of the road, the little car sliding a bit as it went too far and ended up with two wheels off in the roadside ditch.  Chloe tried to pull forward but her rear wheel seemed to be stuck.  _Great._  She got out and stood quietly for a few minutes, still questioning her motives for coming here, especially so late.  But she honestly did want to check up on him and make sure he was okay.  He really had been acting weirder than usual earlier and she had something from an old issue of the Ledger she wanted to ask him about, anyway so…  With one last glance at her little car and a small sigh, she headed off down Hickory Lane toward Clark's house. 

As Chloe got closer, she could see the house was dark although, as she made her way up the driveway she could see a faint flickering light upstairs in the barn.  Maybe Clark was up late studying and wouldn't mind a little diversion.  _Okay…buck up, Sullivan; how bad could it be?_  She certainly didn't care to repeat last spring's experience of walking in on Clark and Lana macking.  Walking quietly into the barn, she paused, listening for any evidence that might reveal what Clark was doing before she actually saw him but there was none.  The only sounds were the rustling of tree branches outside and what she imagined were tiny mice feet skittering in the darkness around her.  So Chloe walked on and set foot on the stairs that led to the loft.  She thought she heard Clark's voice as she neared the top of the second flight of stairs. 

Clark shifted in his sleep, dreaming he was in the lake again but this time, no one stood on the dock.  When he turned, Chloe was in the water beside him.  "Gee, Clark, you're spending an awful lot of time in Crater Lake, these days.  Thinkin' maybe the Monster of Crater Lake might make an appearance?"  She gasped, pointing down between them, a look of horror on her face.  "What's that?"

Alarmed, Clark stared down into the water for whatever she'd spotted.  "Where, Chloe?  I don't see anything!"  Giggling, she splashed him and he glared at her.  "Okay, that's it."  He splashed back, inundating her with a huge wave of water; she gasped and slipped beneath the surface.  Panicking, Clark dove after her.  There she was: eyes closed and tendrils of blond hair wafting about her head as she slowly drifted downward, a thin stream of bubbles trailing from her still lips.  In an instant, Clark was at her side then he was racing to the surface as fast as he could.

When he broke the surface, he pounded her on the back.  "Chloe!  Chloe!  I'm so sorry, Chloe!  Please…" his voice quivered, finally cracking as fear overwhelmed him.  "Chloe!  Don't leave me, please don't leave me…"  She coughed, her eyes flying open and Clark hugged her tightly.  "Chloe!  Chloe…thank God…" 

"Clark what're you doing?" 

"Something I should have done a long time ago."  His lips found hers and tenderly brushed against them.  Pulling back slightly, he whispered, "Is this okay…"

"Oh, yeah…" sighing, she melted against him.  "Ooohhh…" 

"What?" he asked, smiling down at her.

Chloe wrapped her legs around him, writhing suggestively.  "Well, either that's the Monster of Crater Lake or you're _really_ glad to see me."  Clark pulled her even closer, kissing her fervently as he pressed himself against her- 

Clark's eyes popped open and it took a moment for him to realize where he was.  Groaning loudly, he laid his head on the back of the old couch, disappointed that he wasn't holding a very willing Chloe in his arms.  It had seemed so real…her soft curves and bare skin sliding over his…  Clark sighed heavily as he stared up at the sky, unsure how long he'd slept but it had to be close to midnight.  The moon was high and the candles had burned down low and his parents had long since gone to bed.  Footsteps on the stairs alerted him to someone's presence and he turned to see Chloe's blonde head appear at floor level. 

"Hi, Clark…sorry…is it too late to stop by?"  She hesitated on the last step but Clark waved her on.

"No…come on up; I guess I fell asleep.  What's up?"

"Well…I…" she seemed nervous and Clark scooted over, offering her a seat and patting the couch beside him.  She sat stiffly at the edge instead of relaxing back as she usually did.  Somewhat alarmed, Clark sat up a little straighter as he looked over at her.

"What is it Chloe?  Are you okay?"  Gently, he placed one hand on her arm, lightly rubbing there in an attempt to comfort.

"Yeah, I'm okay…it's just…you've been acting strangely and I wondered if…well…  I'm sorry I kissed you in the file room today and I didn't want to screw things up between us again.  I didn't want you to think I was…"

"What?" he whispered, leaning closer.  "What didn't you want me to think?"

"That…um…that I wanted to be more than friends because that's obviously someplace we shouldn't go…"

"Why not?  What if I want to go there?"  Suddenly, he was kissing her and pulling her into his lap where she settled in nicely as she eagerly returned his kiss.  Chloe felt warm and wonderful in his arms.

When Chloe came up for air, she whispered, "Clark…what…what if we screw everything up again?" 

"Why don't we try and see what happens?  We'll never know unless we give it a shot."  Her green eyes were wide with concern until he gently kissed her again then she shifted, turning to straddle him and he grabbed her hips, pulling her down and said softly, "It'll be okay, Chlo." Gently, he teased her lips with the tip of his tongue and she opened her mouth to him, allowing him inside.

Chloe tore his shirt open and pressed herself against him, her hands exploring him until he was panting.  Groaning, Clark looked up when he heard the sound of footsteps; company would be decidedly unwelcome right now. 

Chloe's blond head appeared at the top of the stairs.  "Chloe…what…" he shook his head, wondering why she wasn't sitting in his lap anymore. 

"Clark?"

Clark mumbled something as he looked down at the couch beneath him and began thrashing about again.  Something was stuck to the front of his shirt and his arms were behind him, the blanket wrapped around his wrists, binding them together.  Clark started bouncing up and down, trying to free himself, the cushion bouncing with him.  Lifting his head up, he stared at Chloe blankly then slammed his head down hard on the end of the couch.  The arm of the couch gave way, the sound of splintering wood clearly audible and his pillow exploded in a snowstorm of feathers.  Then, with one mighty heave, he toppled over, landing hard on his stomach in front of the couch; the trunk he used as a coffee table skidded away when his elbow bumped it.  Just as Chloe rushed over to him he pulled his hands apart, ripping the blanket in two.

"Clark!"  He was still struggling, not yet fully awake.  "Clark!  Calm down; you-you must've been dreaming."  Chloe patted his back and he laid still, a look of confusion on his face.

"Chloe?  What's…what am I doing on the floor?"  Clark started to roll over onto his side but thought better of it.  The dream image of Chloe in his lap still seemed very real, as was its obvious effect on him.

"I'd say it has all the earmarks of a furniture attack," she chuckled, "although…normally, sofas from the sixties aren't that aggressive.  Looks like you won but the old sofa sure put up a good fight." 

A mass of inner springs and foam stuffing had erupted from the seat of the couch, some of which was stuck to Clark's shirt and jeans and the rest spewed out onto the couch and the floor.  One of the cushions had been shredded.  He groaned as he surveyed the damage.  "What a mess!"

Chloe patted the old couch affectionately, causing a small cloud of dust and feathers to fill the air around them.  "Poor thing…it was always such a faithful old couch…"

"Hey!  I'm the injured party here!" he laughed.  "And actually, this thing's more of a loveseat; the real couch is over there but it's covered with junk.  I was thinking of dragging it over here anyway and now…"

"Oh!  So you were thinking of replacing it.  No wonder it's so cranky.  All those years of loyal service and now you're just gonna cast it aside."

"Chloe.  Who's side are you on?"  He smiled, shaking his head again.  "What a dream…" 

 "More like a nightmare!"

"Yeah…I guess it was." 

Chloe flopped down on the floor beside him, scattering dust and cushion stuffing everywhere; she couldn't quite keep from smiling.  She stared at him for a moment then ruffled his hair.  "You okay?" she asked, solicitously.

"Yeah." 

Chloe shivered.  "I swear your people must've been Laplanders or something; aren't you cold up here?" 

"Grab that red blanket over on the trunk if you're cold; this one's ruined."  When she got to her knees, reaching over a couple of feet to snag it, Clark quickly sat up, conveniently dropping the pieces of torn blanket into his lap.  Leaning back against the edge of the couch, he ran a hand through his unruly locks, dislodging bits of foam and dust.  Chloe came back, handing him the blanket as she sat down beside him again; he spread the blanket around them both and she snuggled up next to him.

Chloe reached over and made a half hearted attempt at brushing off his shirt.  "So…what got you so rattled?  Was it that pop quiz in English Lit?" she said with a smile as she picked a feather off the tip of his nose.

"No…although I fail to understand the need to diagram sentences in Lit class.  It's just…the dream was so…odd and so vivid.  I have such weird dreams sometimes and I wonder what they mean or if they mean anything at all."

"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

"Chloeee…" 

"Nevermind.  What exactly did you dream?"

"Well, I was swimming in Crater Lake and…and…" he stopped, reddening slightly.

"Skinny dipping?  Worried about that dangling participle, were we?"

"Chloe!  The whole school was there.  It was totally embarrassing."

"Ah!  A naked in front of everyone dream.  Everybody has those.  I think that means you're unprepared…or something."

"What does it mean when you fly?"

"Wow, flying naked!  Definitely some dangling there."

"Chloe!  Leave my…my…"

"Participle," she supplied, with a laugh.

"Leave my participle out of this!"

"Well, you're the one who brought it up!"  Clark reddened further and Chloe burst out laughing when she realized what she'd said.

Clark frowned, "Chlo…"

"Okay, okay; you just don't appreciate my rapier sharp wit.  Back to your dangling-"

"Chloe!"

"Some people think flying in your dreams means you're astral projecting; traveling in another plane of existence.  Or maybe it means you want to be freed of something.  Still afraid of heights?"

"Anymore…not so much."

"Maybe…maybe it means you just want to fly but you're not ready yet."  Chloe smiled and patted his arm again before continuing.  "Could be you'll grow wings and just take off into the wild blue yonder and we'll be getting reports of flying farm boys circling the windmill in Chandler's Field.  This _is_ Smallville you know."  Clark grimaced at her suggestion but Chloe went blithely on.  "Well, speaking of flying, I had something to show you, anyway…"  She dug into her bag and pulled out an old copy of the Ledger, spreading it open before him.  Gleefully, she added, "The Gough family had boxes of these old newspapers stored in their attic; I can't believe old Mr. Gough was just going to throw them away.  These things are a treasure trove of Smallville history…

"I started going through them finally and discovered there were a bunch of issues from as early as the fifties.  Anyway…here, look at this; this is the issue with the headline about Louise McCallum's murder.  When I was investigating her death, I ran across some very interesting information.  The week of her murder, there was a rash of UFO sightings in Lowell County, especially around the immediate Smallville area.  In fact, there were numerous sightings from here all the way to the California coast in the month immediately preceding her death.  Some Drake University students even claimed to have seen," Chloe picked up the paper and began reading, 'a large object in the sky shaped like an oval with running boards bearing a series of lights.  It hovered for about four minutes at tree height, shot straight up, climbed away toward the east and disappeared,' on the Saturday night immediately following her death."  She handed the paper to Clark and said, "There.  What about that?" 

Clark stared at the old paper, silent for a moment before saying, "I wouldn't put too much stock in those sightings.  College guys are notorious for partying out in the woods down here.  Sheriff Adams ran some of 'em out of the caves just last week."

"Well, the article also notes that McConnell Air Force Base scrambled two fighter jets that same night but refused to say why.  That's suspicious, wouldn't you say?"

"Maybe it is but there could've been other reasons for sending up a couple of jets.  It _was_ during the Cold War; they were pretty jumpy back then.  That's hardly conclusive evidence of a flying saucer encounter."

"And…"  not to be deterred, she turned the paper, pointing to another article hidden on the very back page, "the Ledger also interviewed one Joseph Willowbrook, then a young archeologist at Kansas State University, who said Smallville was, and I quote, "an outpost for an advanced race of creatures from outer space.  He didn't speak of any actual sightings in the article but I'd say he might be a little more credible than some frat boy party goers if he had."  She looked up, hopefully, thinking Clark might have something to say.  When he didn't, she added, "So…whaddaya think…did he ever talk to you about his belief that ET called Smallville home?"

Clark frowned, slightly.  "Ummm…not much.  He talked about Indian legends, mostly and what the cave drawings represented." 

"You think maybe he was right?  About advanced beings coming here to observe us?"

"I dunno.  Maybe."

Chloe sat back, quiet for a moment.  "I wonder what they'd see when they looked at us?"

"Dichotomy; darkness and light, pain and pleasure," he looked over at Chloe and smiled shyly, "beauty and resolve."

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him for a moment, before asking, "Were you sitting up here being all introspective before you fell asleep?  Because that'll give you nightmares, every time." 

Clark shrugged.  "Kinda." 

Chloe looked around the loft, eyeing the guttering candles.  "Trying for a little ambience?"

"Yeah."  Clark chuckled, "It's the latest in country chic; I am nothing, if not fashionable," he added, indicating his stuffing covered shirt.

That brought a smile to her face but she quickly returned to the topic of extraterrestrials, asking, "I wonder what we'd see when we looked at them?  Did the Kawatches ever describe the earlier visitor?"

"No, there were just the cave drawings…"

"Well, if he had an affair with an earth woman, presumably, they appeared human…and came equipped with…you know…the right participle-"

"Chloe!"  Clark slapped his forehead and slid down against the front of the couch.  "Let it go!"

"I never touched your participle!"

"Geez!  Why are we friends, again?"

"Because I'm very tolerant, even of people who are overly fond of flannel.  Hey, maybe aliens would really like flannel and you'd fit right in.  Maybe…flannel is what brought them here, to begin with; they got tired of all that scratchy glittery space suit stuff.  Or maybe…maybe their planet's flannel reserves have been depleted after decades of overuse and they need a new source of flannel before their civilization crumbles." 

"Maybe," he laughed.

"I can see the headline now: Flannel Clad Beings Arrive to Conquer.  Alien Overlord says Stewart plaid his favorite."  Chloe fingered his plaid overshirt, grinning broadly.  "Maybe you could get a job as a minion.  Bet it would pay better than your part time job.  Wonder what benefits they'd offer?"  She waggled her eyebrows at him.  "Ooohhh…maybe…they'd give their favorite minion a nice willing concubine to tend to his _every_ need."  Smirking, Chloe leaned over, slowly running her finger down his chest. 

Clark's eyes widened, his heart beating faster and he couldn't quite keep from groaning, his body responding to the thought of _nice willing_… "Chloeee…" then she laughed, patting his chest and was it his imagination or did her hand linger a moment before she moved it to pick off more pieces of foam still stuck to the front of his t-shirt?  Clark quickly hunched over, pulling the blanket closer. 

Ignoring him, she plunged ahead, switching gears and subjects with dizzying speed.  "Okay, okay…here's something else; what's your take on this?" 

Chloe handed him another more recent copy of the Daily Planet, pointing to an article on the front page entitled, 'Bankers baffled by break-ins,' which he gratefully placed over his lap as he began to read.  When she poked at the paper with her finger, impatient to hear his opinion, he squirmed and pushed her hand away.  "Chloe, just let me read it, okay?" 

"Well?" she said in a few seconds.  "What do you make of that?  Apparently, this is the second time this month that the bank staff arrived to find the alarms had been triggered and when they examined the vault, there was extra cash inside."

"I…dunno…maybe they're mistaken?"

"They calculated it repeatedly, Clark.  There was definitely extra cash there.  Who'd go into a bank and trigger the alarm just to make an anonymous deposit?"

Clark shrugged.  "Beats me, Chlo."  He stared at her, leaning close again and thinking, how inviting her lips seemed but she moved back, out of reach.

"I should go."  She started to get up, letting her half of the blanket fall back around Clark's broad shoulders but paused, perching on the edge of the couch.  Clark turned, looking up at her.

"What?"

"Clark…are you sure you're alright because…because I was afraid maybe I'd hurt you, earlier…"

"Hurt me?" 

"You know…in the filing room…I didn't mean to push you so hard and I was worried that maybe I'd been too rough…" she trailed off, embarrassed; that sounded really lame even to her.  Chloe absently scratched her nose, something she often did when she was nervous, trying to think of something else to say.

Clark stared at her for an uneasy moment, equally uncomfortable to be reminded of their encounter in the file room.  "No…" he said, a tiny smile appearing, "you weren't…too rough.  I'm…I'm fine."  The last word was practically a squeak.  _Chloe…being rough…_an image of Chloe in black leather and wielding a whip leaped into his mind and he tried desperately to dispel it.  It wasn't working.  He could hear the crack of the whip-   Clark winced, fighting for control of his increasingly erotic thoughts.

Finally, Chloe blurted out, "I'm sorry…I…I…didn't know what else to do."  She waved her hands around in the air to emphasize her point.  Chloe often talked with her hands, especially when she was nervous; it was practically a second language with her.  "I thought we'd be in big trouble if they caught us looking in the files!"

"Uh…yeah; that was…quick thinking.  Looking into private medical records like that could get us into lots of trouble…not that that would ever stop you."  Chloe batted the top of his head.  "Hey!" now he was laughing.

"I was…it was the first thing that came to mind…I was just…"

"Thinking on your feet.  I know…"

"I should've had a plan in case we got caught…but I didn't think it through…"

"Well…next time we'll work on a plan ahead of time.  We'll be prepared…we'll practice…"  _Practice kissing Chloe…_

"Um…well…next time maybe you can think of something."

"Yeah…" he was staring at her lips again, they were drawing him in…he wanted to pull her into his lap and wrap his arms around her and…

Before Clark could work up the courage to act, Chloe rose up off the couch then stopped abruptly, her knees bent.  "I'm caught on something."  She tried to look behind her and Clark leaned around to see. 

"Uh…looks like some of the springs are caught on your skirt, Chlo; hang on."  He reached up to dislodge one but stopped, hesitant to touch her, his big hands hovering in the air.  "Um…uh…Chloe…"

"What?  Are you gonna untangle me or not?"  When he didn't answer and nothing happened, she glanced back over her shoulder and caught the odd look on his face.  "Oh, good grief, Clark!  Just do it!"

"Okay…" he said uncertainly.  He grabbed one spring; Chloe felt him pull and thought she heard something rip. 

"Be careful; I like this skirt.  Wait a minute."  She turned around to kneel on the floor, leaning over the couch so Clark could better see what he was doing.  "Okay, how's this?" 

Clark made a odd strangled sound then stammered out, "It's…it's fine…Chloe," his voice hitting a slightly higher register.  "I…I…" he trailed off.  Clark had once dared, while under the influence of red Kryptonite, to peek beneath her clothing while she stood with her back to him.  _Chloe had a really nice-_

"What?"  Chloe looked over her shoulder at him.  "Can you get it?"  She raised up and ran into Clark's outspread hands.

Quickly pulling his hands back, he yelped, "Hold still!"  Chloe leaned down again and Clark gingerly grabbed one spring with his thumb and forefinger and tried to wiggle it free.

"I...I'm afraid I'll tear your skirt if I just pull it out," he said more loudly.  "Could you…_gulp_…maybe take your skirt off?  You can wrap a blanket around you-" now his voice was oddly deep.

Chloe straightened up a little and loosened the tie wrap on her skirt.  "Well, here; does this help?" 

Clark watched, riveted as her skirt slid lower on her hips.  He quickly covered his eyes with the heels of his hands and firmly told himself he was _not_ going to set something on fire. 

"Can you get it out, now?  What _is_ the problem, Clark?"  After a moment, she looked back at him again.  "Clark?  What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry; I got something in my eye.  Gimmee a minute."  Finally, Clark pulled his hands away from his eyes and let out a long, slow, breath.  He imagined pressing her up against the wall…not a good idea; he covered his eyes again, shaking his head as if he could physically dislodge the vision.  Now Chloe was starting to wiggle as she became increasingly impatient; that alone was disconcerting.  Clark concentrated on taking quick shallow breaths in an effort focus his attention on something other than Chloe's lovely backside. 

"Clark?  What are you doing?  You sound like Mrs. Rosenbaum when she came to the break room to practice Lamaze with her husband."

"Sorry.  I was…trying to concentrate."  After a moment, he thought he was sufficiently calm and one by one he pulled out the springs and threw them onto the couch.  "There.  Minimal damage.  You're free from the old couch at last."  Before she turned around he made sure he was well camouflaged by the blanket.

"Thanks."  She stood and pulled her skirt up, tying it around her waist once more.  "But now I have another favor to ask." 

"What's that?"

"Well, my Bug is kinda stuck out on Hickory Lane just down from your driveway.  Can you come give me a push?  I sorta slid into the ditch when I pulled over." 

"Why'd you park all the way down there?"

"I…I stopped to look at the moon and just pulled over too far." 

Draping the red blanket around him, Clark followed her as she headed to the stairs.  Once outside, they walked in silence down the driveway, stopping to look up at the sky when they reached her car.  "Beautiful moon, huh, Chloe."

"Yeah…ooh!  Look!  A falling star!  Quick, make a wish!"

Clark wished with all his might that Chloe Sullivan would always play a part in his life.  "Done.  So…what'd you wish for?"

"If I told you, it won't come true."

"Oh.  Then I'll keep quiet, too."

Rolling her eyes, Chloe laughed.  "Oh, anyone could guess what you wished for."

"If you're implying my wish involved Lana then you'd be mistaken.  It had nothing at all to do with her," he said smugly.

"_Really_?  Well, Clark Kent, you continue to amaze me."  She watched his face, the light of the moon reflected in his eyes.  She turned and pointed to her little red Bug.  "I tried but I just couldn't get the one wheel out and the other one isn't really on the road either...  Maybe I should call a tow truck."

"Chloe, I'll get the tractor if I have to but I think a little push is all you need.  Get in."

She got in, starting the engine and turning on the lights.  "Okay…now what?"

"Just wait…"  Clark walked behind; the rear driver's side wheel was totally in the deepest part of the ditch, not even resting on the ground and the other wheel was barely getting traction.  Normally a tow would definitely have been required but not with Clark on hand.  "Okay, get ready to accelerate, _slowly_, when I tell you.  Now…straighten your wheels and watch where you're going, Chlo…"  It wouldn't do to have her eyes on him. 

Chloe straightened her wheels, glancing back at Clark, illuminated by the red of her brake lights. 

Clark said, "Okay," just as he effortlessly lifted the car out of the ditch and set it in the roadway.  Her car lurched away down the road and Chloe slammed on the brakes, leaning out the window to look back at him.

"Clark!  That was so weird…it felt like the car just levitated right up onto the road!  What happened?"

He just shrugged.  "I don't know," he said.  "I just pushed.  Maybe your car has a levitation gear."

"Very funny, Kent.  Well…I need to get home.  Thanks and…um…I'll see you tomorrow.  And don't forget I need your article by the end of the day."

"I won't.  Wouldn't want to leave a gap."   

Chloe smiled at him.  "And let me know if you grow wings.  I'll give you page one coverage."  Even though he found the thought disturbing, her grin was truly infectious and he returned it with a dazzling smile of his own.

"You'll be the first to know."

"Promise?"

"Promise." 

Chloe turned back to the wheel and Clark watched her slowly drive away into the darkness.  Her voice echoed back to him.  "Just watch with the dangling.  You wouldn't want your gerunds to get cold either; I hear that's uncomfortable."

"Chloe!" 

"Bye, Clark!  See you in the morning!"

He stared after her long after she disappeared from view.  Sighing, he turned to walk back to the barn.  Once again, everything was status quo.  _Unless_…he thought, suddenly uncomfortable…_I start flying_…  


End file.
